


may these words be the first (to find your ears)

by fauhnas



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fic Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauhnas/pseuds/fauhnas
Summary: A series of one-shots/ficlets/drabbles posted to tumblr.4. Holding him hostage in her room, Josephine tries to convince Bellamy to help her play Clarke.





	1. Bellarke, Madi & Clarke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song Light by Sleeping at Last
> 
> 1: Madi & Clarke, Bellamy/Clarke  
> Madi attempts to convince Clarke to go back to the bunker for Bellamy.

The desert washes out for miles ahead of them, the horizon fading into a reflective mirage not quite sand, not quite sky.

 _They’re finally going home._

Clarke feels a surge of relief at the sentiment, and lets her foot fall heavier on the pedal that it had been before. It doesn’t matter how different everything is going to be once they get there. They’ll find her mom, remove the flame, and work out the rest from there. And Madi will be safe. That’s all that matters, really.

 

She glances over at her, staring out the window, deep in thought. Whether it’s her own thoughts or the thoughts of those before her, Clarke can’t be sure.

She never wanted this for her. Madi deserved so much better than the life of a commander - deserved more than to be burdened by the whispers of the dead mingling in her mind. She had thought Bellamy would agree to at least that.

She shakes her head and turns her eyes back to the rover’s path. It doesn’t matter now. In a few hours the flame will be out of Madi’s head, she’ll be safe.

The radio sitting between them crackles and sputters suddenly to life, and Clarke’s heart jumps to her throat.

“Clarke?” Harper’s voice sounds miles away, coated in static, but still sharpened by fear. “If you’re in the rover and you can hear me, Bellamy’s in trouble. Octavia’s putting him in the pit. Clarke? Come in rover-“ Harper’s please are cut short as Clarke slams off the radio.

Bellamy had made his choice. He had done this to Madi, had refused to protect her. And now it was up to Clarke, even if it meant leaving him behind.

 

“Clarke, we have to go back for them. Gaia, Indra. Bellamy. They’ll all die,” Madi says, looking at her for the first time since they started driving. But it’s not Madi, not really. Clarke has seen the the depth of implanted knowledge behind other eyes, even felt it behind her own.

She has to get the flame out of her head. Then she can think about the rest.

“They betrayed us Madi. Bellamy promised he would protect you, and he didn’t.”

Madi sighs, and it sounds too tired, too heavy to have come from such a young girl. “You know I have a responsibility to go back, Clarke. You have to let me.”

With that, Clarke lays her foot on the breaks, slapping the wheel in frustration before turning to face the girl she had sworn to do anything to protect.

“You don’t have a responsibility there. You’re a child. And we are going home.”

Madi studies her for a moment, the glow of the setting sun on the sand soaking into the black of the rover.

“They didn’t make me do it, Clarke.”

”That doesn’t matter now.” Clarke steels her eyes forward, ignites the engine.

The girl continues to speak, despite the roar of the rover’s engine’s best efforts to drown her out.

“You never told me he came for you when you were first in Polis with Lexa.” Madi continues to study her. Clarke keeps her gaze forward.

“He broke into the throne room of the commander, surrounded by people hostile toward him. All to save your life. And you would have done the same for him.”

Clarke clenches her hands on the wheel and steps down on the gas.

“He promised he would protect you, Madi. He didn’t keep his word.”

“He did it to protect you, Clarke. So did I, they gave me a choice.”

Clarke grits her teeth, “it wasn't worth that thing being put in your head. It’s coming out.”

“No it’s not!” Madi yells, and for a moment Clarke is frightened by how vehemently she means it. “You can’t-“ she takes a breath, suddenly, eerily calm. “You know I can’t let you do that Clarke. Too much is at stake.”

“I don’t care Madi. It’s too dangerous. I love you. You’re my family,” tears prick at the corners of her eyes, “I have to protect you.”

“Bellamy is your family too.”

“He’s not anymore. He’s made that abundantly clear.” Heat rises in her cheeks as her anger resurfaces, and she shakes her head.

“He would risk you hating him for the rest of his life, just to save yours. Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?”

 

It's been years, and still not a day goes by that Clarke doesn't think about Wells. He's jolted into her memory at Madi's words- the relief of finally finding the truth, forgiving him. The warmth and familiarity of their embrace on a completely foreign planet. The visceral, vomit inducing pain of  finding his body cold. Out of everyone he had hurt the most to lose, still hurts the most to have lost. Madi knows this. Lexa knew this. Knew how much it would hurt to imagine Bellamy the same way. She shakes the thought out of her head.

“That’s not fair and you know it. He gambled your life. I don’t want to hear any more about it,” Clarke snaps.

But Madi pushes on: “you had barely forgiven Wells when he died. It was the same with Lexa.” Madi pauses, gauging her reaction. Clarke tries to keep her stone face expression, but she can’t help the small quiver of her lower lip.

“You never got to tell her how you felt. Not really. ”

“Lexa is dead. The flame can’t change that.” She feels the first tear fall onto her cheek. “Using her memories doesn’t change that.”

“I know that. But it can be different with him, you still have time.” She reaches out, clasping a hand over Clarke’s on the steering wheel. “Bellamy doesn’t have to die. We can save him.”

Clarke fixes her eyes on the small hand gripping her own. For years she’s watched it grow, become more capable than she could have ever imagined. It’s the only hand she’s held for over six years. Even just her hand, Clarke loves more than her own life.

She looks over to Madi, and smiles at her softly, sadly.

“And I’m choosing to save you.”

 

Clarke pushes her foot onto the acceleration, and a haze of dust and sand billows up around them as they speed towards Eden.


	2. Bellarke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2: Bellarke  
> Canon-divergence from 5.10. The battle for Eden is over, and Clarke begins to search for Bellamy.

When the chaos stops and the dust finally settles, she searches for him first.

Madi is by her side, dredging through the ruins of their home. Through the blood and the bodies, and those left barely alive.

She doesn’t even look at Miller as she shoves past him towards Octavia, sitting on her thrown of rubble and death. She should be reveling in their victory, but even Blodreina knows that this is nothing to celebrate.

Clarke marches up to her, demands to see him, to know where he is. She had seen both Indra and Gaia and they had been a promise amidst the fighting that he was still alive.

Octavia narrows her eyes. Her brother had been too keen on stopping the war. Too much of a risk to bring on the march. “He was an enemy of Wonkru,” she spits, “he never left the bunker.”

As Clarke walks away, the thrumming in her ears is louder than the gunshots and screams ever could have been.

She knows what she has to do.

 

She pulls Madi into a cave where they find her mother and Kane, slumped together in exhaustion, but still glad to see them. They all embrace and she knows her mother is crying, though she can’t quite hear her over the call she hears, beckoning her away from her family and the green of the valley, down deeper, back into the darkness of the earth.

She places a hand on her mother and one on her found daughter and as she holds them she knows there is only one other person who could truly break her.

“Take care of each other,” she says, brushing their cheeks. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

She makes her way across the sands, her only company the gentle growling of the engine until she’s back in the ruins, out of the rover, beginning her descent. Willingly lighting her own pyre, her own soul’s escort into hell, never once looking back.

The single light from where the first rescue took place shines down on her, bathing her in golden light. She steps out of it, the light dimming as she travels deeper.

Like defeating a mountain, or a tower, or intelligence itself, she does not do it alone.

She can feel him, calling to her so loudly her ears might burst. She is pulled in a way only mirrored hearts can be, his hand reaching from a distance into her chest and around her heart, blood dripping as it’s ripped apart. And yet, she feels at fault. Inside of her, away from him. 

The calling continues to drum in her ears, circling around her bleeding heart until she floats up to the lockup door.

She opens it, and seeing him, she is suddenly shifted back into reality. Her feet land firmly on the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

 

Bellamy is a crumpled figure, barely sitting up against the far side of the room. She runs to him, feet echoing off the concrete walls.

He’s pale and thin, eyes closed and unmoving. Her whole body buckles, and she lands beside him on her knees. Hesitant, she reaches out to him, afraid of the answers she may find. Cold skin meets her fingertips as she strokes his cheek.

The world goes blurry as her hands start to shake.

“Bellamy, please.” It's a _sob_ , short and strangled. 

She grabs at his shirt and lays her head against his chest, letting the tears and the panic and the sadness cover her in an encompassing numbness. The least she can do is let a little piece of herself rest here, with him.

She looses track of how long she lays there, becoming one with the dead. When she speaks again, her heart is still beating in her ears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers into him.

The beating in her ears continues to thrum, quietly, resiliently, as she feels a hand move with great effort to her back. Slowly it stops, warmer than it should be, resting right above her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! As always, comments/kudos are appreciated and feel free to come yell with me on [tumblr.](www.bellemysblakes.tumblr.com)


	3. Bellarke, Luna/Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3: Bellarke, Luna/Raven, Braven friendship  
> After six months aboard the ring, Raven still has no idea Luna died in the conclave. Bellamy is the one to break the news.

It takes about six months to get it right, and when she does, Raven is ecstatic.

“Bellamy, look at this!”They're the only ones in the control room at the moment, but she still exclaims loudly, the excitement of success coursing through her veins. He wanders over to her, nearly dead on his feet, and squints at the screen.

She wants to scold him for how tired he looks, but the work he does around the ring keeps him mind busy, and that’s better for him than anything could be. Even if she did mention it, he would just get all defensive and say something about how Clarke didn’t die for them to slack off up here, and mentioning her always makes him guarded and mopey, so she lets it go.

“Is that the ocean?” He asks.

“Right you are. I figured out how to track the currents with one of our satellites.” She beams up at him from her seat. “Took a while, but she sure is beautiful.”

Bellamy is still studying the pixelated patterns and she turns back to the screen. She watches the currents, curling as they always had despite the hellfire of radiation cascading over them. It’s kind of amazing to her, the sheer resilience of it. The ocean is a fucking badass.

The thought makes her smile softly, almost to herself, “Luna would love this.”

Bellamy stops still before slowly turning to look at Raven, the look in his eyes is more guarded than she’s seen in months and more than a little confused.

“You knew her?” He asks.

“Of course, I mean she came to Becca’s lab with us, it’s where we got the nightblood that-“ Clarke’s name dies on her lips, and she shakes her head. “Anyway, she’s going to love this.”

Bellamy clenches his jaw and says nothing, still looking at her with his sad, guarded stare. Raven can’t help the guilt that washes over her. This is what she gets for mentioning Clarke, Bellamy’ll be off kilter for at least the next hour. If it’s a bad day he’ll try to avoid their attempts to distract him by gluing himself to that damn window, and Murphy won’t stop giving her shit upsetting him for the rest of the week. But Bellamy’s still staring at her, so she continues.

“Maybe if it’s too soon to go back to the ocean I can rig up something like this for her. So she can still keep an eye on the water, even if she’s not there, you know?” Distraction is key in these situations, and talking about going back is always a worthy topic. And Luna really would love it. Raven can just about picture her face, that tranquil happiness that radiates from her when she talks about the ocean would be there, the corners of her dark lips curling up ever so slightly as she watches the screen. She can almost see her smiling at her, unabashed, but the picture slips from her mind, just out of reach.

“Raven, Luna fought for Floukru in the conclave.” Bellamy says, and all the ocean air that had made a home in her lungs is suddenly sucked out.

It leaves her with a soft “oh,” that hangs between the stale metal walls of the ring. 

She can feel Bellamy’s presence hovering over her, but her vision goes blurry, never seeing if he tries to close the distance between them.

He pulls a chair over towards hers, mental scraping against metal like a sob, and he speaks to her gently.

“I would have told you sooner. I didn’t realize she meant so much to you.” It comes out a plea, as if he’s asking for forgiveness.

Tears spill hot against her cheeks, and it's a cruel joke, salt water that should belong in the sea.

“Raven, I’m so sorry,” his voice is soft and gravely, footsteps on a pebbled beach at sunrise. The tears continue running in quiet streams down her face, and she wipes at them haphazardly with the back of her hand.

“I’m fine,” she tells him, and they would have both known it was bullshit even if her voice hadn’t broken. “I just- I thought we would have more time, you know?”

Bellamy lets out strange, choked sound, and she knows that all he’s thinking about is Clarke. “Yeah, I know.”

He takes a ragged breath that makes it sound like he may speak more, but all that escapes is a sob.

She’s sitting close enough to him that she can feel it wreak through his frame, shaking his shoulders, and she wants to reach over and hold him, but she’s frozen.

They’ve both lost so much already, and she knows life’s not supposed to be fucking fair, but God, this seems like overkill. Her lungs begin to tighten, the sharp panic of loss that can never truly be eradicated returning in full force. And she knows the salt of the wet on her cheeks somehow connects them- her, Luna and the waves.

_I give myself the the miracle of the sea._

She begins to sway herself, Bellamy’s warmth beside her reminding her that she's not alone. not really, not yet.

They sit for a long while, Raven still rocking side to side, a ship lulled by the waves. Both of them drowning in the shallows of their own grief, surrendering themselves to the water and the salt and the sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! As always, comments/kudos are appreciated and feel free to come yell with me on [tumblr.](www.bellemysblakes.tumblr.com)


	4. Bellamy/Clarke, Josephine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holding Bellamy in her room, Josephine tries to convince him to help her play Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in love with Josephine????

 "You know, not cooperating isn't going to bring her back," Josephine says, raising a delicate brow.   
   
She sits on her bed, studying him, as Bellamy struggles against the ropes holding him to the plush, high backed chair.  
   
The paralytic hadn't worn off all too long ago, but his wrists were already chaffing, the angry red staining his skin the color of the pomegranate seeds she had eaten as a child, when the deep pink of the juice had dripped like blood between her fingers. God, she misses those.  
   
"Go to hell," he spits.   
   
Josephine sighs, exasperated. "From what I've heard, she was tired of fighting. Trust me, it’s better for her this way.”  
   
He looks at her, a wild, desperate look in his eyes mixed with half-fallen tears, but they're still searching. She had never quite seen anything like it. Almost as if he's looking right through her to try and see the host.   
   
She narrows her eyes at him, moving from the bed. Bellamy shakes his head as she stands.    
   
"You don’t know what you’re talking about. My friends will notice I'm gone soon enough, and they'll come for me, and for Clarke. Like your people said, we're dangerous."  
   
"Your friends, huh? Funny you say that. I already have your friend John working the doctor for me.”  
   
"Murphy wouldn't help you." He sounds certain. It's only slightly pathetic.   
   
"I wouldn't be so sure. Tell me, how sacred is he of dying? I knew he would take my offer of immortality, but I never imagined it would be so fast."  
   
He shakes his head and shifts in his bonds.   
   
"He wouldn't do that." The bonds strain against his shoulders. He's not trying to break free, yet, but he's testing them. She feels for the paralytic tucked safely in her pocket. Despite its hideousness, the jacket is practical.   
   
"There's nowhere to go if you get out of here, Bellamy. This is my house, my people. There are guards outside the door, your friends are already on my side."   
   
He's quiet for a long moment, and he finally stops straining, his breaths coming in violent heaves. His face contorts to resemble something like a blank expression. It's enough to make her giggle.   
   
"No need to be so serious, Bellamy. Although that is a wonderful poker face. Did they play that where you're from?"  
   
"If Murphy's already helping you, what do you want from me?"   
   
"I can't just want to keep you around for your good looks?" She closes in on him as she speaks, getting close enough for him to better see Clarke's face. When he doesn’t react she huffs, crossing her arms.   
   
"You're going to help John and I convince the doctor to make more nightbloods for us. I just need to be the perfect Clarke first. Your friend John says you knew her best."   
   
He raises his chin, the swell of his eyes more prominently hitting the light. "I would rather burn this place and everyone in it to the ground."  
   
"I'm not saying it would have to be your people. There are more than enough people here who would be willing to die to become Primes. If you help me, you and your friends can be like us too. You can live forever, Bellamy."  
   
Her reassurance doesn’t seem to move him at all, the anger in his eyes still ablaze with fury.   
   
"I get it. I really do. You're angry I tricked you." She stares at him, cocking her head. "What I don't understand is why you're so worked up over this Clarke being gone."   
   
When she says her name he winces, an action she had missed when he was struggling against the ropes.   
   
"What" she asks, narrowing her eyes, "Aren't you the one that decided her life was less important than your other friends' and left her on an irradiated planet to die?"   
   
He braces against his bonds again, a single tear finally breaking past his lashes, cascading down his face. Bingo.   
   
"Your little friend Jordan really did tell Delilah everything. She was disposable to you. You didn't even bother checking up on her when she went off with Cilian. If you had only had the decency to make sure she wasn't shacking up with a complete creep, I might not even be here right now.”  
   
Bellamy says nothing.  
   
“Tell me one thing. Am I really supposed to believe you loved her?"  
   
"You don't know what you're talking about," he says, voice raw.   
   
She stops her pacing and leans toward him, invading his space. Clarke's face stretches to accommodate a smirk that could never be hers.  
   
"So you did love her." She studies him, thoughtful. "How tragic."  
   
His eyes have gone red from the tears, but he says nothing. Though, she supposes, admitting it now won't bring her back. A new kind of power high surges through her wiring. In this room, she can do anything she wants. He would never hurt this host, no matter how tough he might seem.   
   
She leans in close, so close she can nearly taste his heavy breath on her lips. Constellations of freckles on his face almost make her pause, and she pushes back a slight pang in the chest that now belongs to her. Of course the one body her parents could find for her would have heartburn.   
   
"Who knows, if there are more nightbloods, maybe I won't need Clarke as a host anymore" she lies. "Although, it would be a shame to let her go, not every host is such a smoke show."  
   
"I thought you said Clarke was dead."  
   
She shrugs and steps away from him. "We've never tried taking one out of a host before. There's never been a point. It's up to you, Bellamy. Her life is in your hands."   
   
His lip quivers for a millisecond, but it's all she needs to see after being alive for 200 years. In all honestly, it had been easier than she suspected it would be. Only someone in love would be stupid enough, hopeful enough, to even consider believing her.  
   
Bellamy shifts a final time under his bonds before looking at Josephine, sitting comfortably behind the eyes of the girl he loves.   
   
"What do you need to know?"


End file.
